Missing Pieces
by Couple of Luck
Summary: Chapter 5: The ring was slipped on his left ring finger and fit perfectly. When he took the smaller ring out, it felt so much heavier. He read his name on the ring. A smile sneaked across his face. The ring was indeed worth all the silly attempts he made to get her finger size. If only he had the chance to see her try it…
1. Chapter 1

Dark cloud shrouded the city. Thunder roared in the air. A storm was coming. The usually congested mall area seemed to be deserted. Hawkers were in a hurry to close their stalls, but eventually outraced by the pouring rain. The traffic had slowed to snail pace. Blaring horn sounded by angry drivers pervaded the entire city. The uncoordinated ensemble of thunder, honk, and splashing sound of water became the evening theme.

Major Jean Havoc looked at the clock hung under the shade. It was almost six. His eyes then peered as far as possible along the empty railroad. There came the rumbling sound of a heavy machine and ringing bell. Licking his dry lips, the blond officer felt his heart pumping wildly. It had been a year.

The first compartment of the train was occupied by a man, along with two watchful military police. The man looked at the window, which was covered with moisture due to the cold rain. He then used the right sleeve of his overcoat to wipe the moisture away and let out a weak smile. His eyes then turned to the photograph held in his left hand. It was a black and white portrait of a woman.

"Forgive me. This is the only way." The man murmured. Staring at the black and white photograph, the clear onyx eyes gradually became dull and still. They did not blink even as the blinding lighting struck.

The deafening sound of thunder was all too familiar. He suddenly found himself there, standing and looking at a motionless figure lying on the hard asphalt. Long blond hair scattered over the floor. Red fluid formed a small pool around the upper torso. He saw no face, only the back that was impaled by several dark crimson holes. It belonged to someone he knew, someone dear to him. His feet were bolted. He wanted to say the name. Why couldn't he hear himself saying it?

The dark clouds unleashed all the moisture they had stored by showering it to the earth. He was never superstitious, but somehow, he took the rain as an ominous sign that blurred the path before him. The red pool was slowly being washed off from the ground. Watching the soaking wet figure, he broke into a sprint, as if the body was melting in the rain, but quickly ended up plummeting to the floor, devastated. His trembling hands touched the pale face then slowly held the body securely in his arms. "It is just the rain," he told himself. As seconds passed, he began to wonder what he was holding, as there was neither movement nor warmth that a person should have had. "Don't you give up on living! Do you hear me? Don't you ever give up!" He shouted, in hope for a response. He touched the forehead with his cheek, not knowing if it was tear or rain that blurred his vision.

"Ge…ne…ral…" A voice whispered into his ear. It was weak but he could hear it.

"General!"

The man jolted in his seat, looked up, and found one of the military police was calling him. "We have arrived, sir."

The train slowed down to a stop. Havoc, the major awaited on the platform, straightened up his forage cap. "Atten—tion!" He called out. The military squad behind him snapped their feet together, rifles raised to their sides. A man with a briefcase stepped out from the train.

"Welcome back, General Mustang," Havoc smiled warmly.

Mustang said nothing and walked off, not even bothered to greet the major. Havoc was slightly surprised, but the partly revealed photograph in the general's pocket had given clue that the major should not be offended.

Havoc quickly jogged to the general's side to lead him to a black car. Enduring the cold rain pouring on him, the standing-by military police opened the door at the back seat. The door was closed after the general was on board. The major tapped the dashboard. Receiving it as a signal, the driver stepped on the pedal.

The rain was still pouring. After driven less than two miles, the vehicle caught on the traffic. "This is not good," said Havoc.

Mustang opened his briefcase to take a letter-sized envelope out. "Give me your raincoat, Havoc," he demanded.

Subconsciously, the major took off his wet raincoat and passed it to the back. "Wait, you are not walking, are you, boss?"

By the time Havoc finished his question, Mustang was already gone. Havoc turned his head back, only to spot his superior officer dashing off to a nearby coffee shop, where a young lady was taking shade with her bicycle. The way both man and woman moving their lips suggested that they were engaging in a conversation. Within thirty seconds, the young lady laughed and yielded her bicycle. Without further delay, the man rode off.


	2. Chapter 2

"Since Riza Hawkeye has no living blood relative, General Grumman, the plaintiff, is the only person who has the legal right to claim her possessions, as her adoptive grandfather…"

Breda turned a deaf ear. He had no interest on what the prosecutor was presenting on the court. Breda's eyes wandered off and caught on the smirking old general, a shrewd chess player.

"General Roy Mustang abused his power as Riza Hawkeye's former commanding officer and expropriated her possession as his. The plaintiff is a loving grandfather who adores his granddaughter, even though they were not biologically related. It was unfortunate that his granddaughter died as a result of engaging in espionage. Nonetheless, Riza Hawkeye was still the plaintiff's granddaughter and her possession is the only memories that the plaintiff has. Therefore, I implore Your Honor to revoke General Roy Mustang's inheritance over and grant the plaintiff's appeal to redeem Riza Hawkeye's possession."

If there would be a turning-point, the time had come. Breda stared at the entrance, hoping the door would open. His prayer was answered. A soldier entered the court, bowed to the judge, and moved to his side.

General Grumman watched the incoming whispered into the major's ear and slightly lost his composure when he found Breda's tightly pressed lips had curved up. The general could only witness what happened next.

"Your Honor!" said Breda, sprang up from his seat. "I would like to request for a key witness to the case. He is waiting outside of the court."

"Objection, Your Honor!" The prosecutor cried out. "The defense attorney has passed the opportunity to present his case."

"Your Honor, this is a crucial witness who will shed new light to the case."

The judge pondered for a moment before declaring his verdict. "Objection overruled. Request granted. Summon the witness."

A man in civilian clothing came in and stood in front of the podium. Grumman became uncomfortable in his seat. The man was, after all, his best contender.

Breda moved closer to the podium and exchanged glances with the witness. "Could you briefly introduce yourself to the court?"

"My name is Roy Mustang. I am the commander-in-chief of Amestris Military."

"You were also Riza Hawkeye's, the former Amestris Colonel's commanding officer?"

"Yes. She was appointed as my adjutant."

"You are accused of abusing your power by claiming Riza Hawkeye's possession unlawfully after her death. What is your stance?"

"I did claim Riza Hawkeye's possession as my own. However, it was done according to legal procedure and I had not abused my power."

"According to the military law and common law, only immediate blood-related relatives, legal adoptive parents, and current spouse have the right to claim a deceased soldier's belongings. In what position do you have to assert that right?"

Mustang took a brief moment. With his eyes closed, he said, "as her legal spouse."

Uproar instantly filled the stiff atmosphere.

The gavel struck several times. "Order! Order!" called the judge.

In a few seconds, the racket slowly subsided. Breda proceeded, "both of you are married?"

"Yes."

"When?"

"Five years ago."

"Is there any documentation that can prove your word?"

"Yes. A marriage certificate, with the former Fuhrer, King Bradley, General Grumman, and two other generals signed as witnesses."

No, it could not be. Grumman recalled it very well. He watched it burnt before his eyes. It should have been destroyed. He even examined all the relevant documents himself when Hughes turned them in. Unless, _Hughes…_

"Your Honor!" Breda produced a sheet of paper. "This is the marriage certificate that proves General Mustang and Riza Hawkeye's relationship." Breda then passed the paper to the judge. "As you can see, the signatures and stamps are authentic. General Mustang does not lie. It was true that General Grumman was redeemed as Riza Hawkeye's grandfather. However, thirty years ago, he had renounced his relationship with Theresa Hawkeye, Riza Hawkeye's mother. The renunciation is legitimate with documented proof. Evidently…" Breda turned to General Grumman. This time, he was the one smirking. "…General Grumman is no longer related with Riza Hawkeye and hence he has no right to claim her belongings."

The proceeding ended shortly thereafter. The court was dismissed with a triumphant decree. Several military officials came forward to congratulate the commander-in-chief. Mustang, on the other hand, was seemed distracted by the elder general, who stomped his way out of the court with some military officers trailing behind him.

"General Mustang!"

"Major Breda."

"Welcome back, sir."

"Thank you for everything."

"I had not done anything. It was Mrs. Hughes who kept that certificate for you."

"Roy?" A female voice gained Mustang's attention. Breda excused himself to leave some privacy.

"Gracia," Mustang replied.

"Your eyes…"

Mustang raised his brows, a hand raised to cover his left eye. "They are healed, Gracia."

As much as she was glad, Garcia was amazed how seamless the old wound was recovering. Who would have known that the now flawless face was once marred by that large scar? Despite it had been hidden under the big eye patch, she had seen it before. She could not even bear to look at it but it was all so vivid in her mind. The eye socket was hollow and was disproportional to the right eye. It was even harder to recognize the healing red tissues from the dead black skin. What kept her eyes on was also the most disheartening. Hawkeye's face was soaking with tears as she changed the dressing. The silent cry brought Mustang's hand to hold hers in gentle grip. Blame Maes for babbling to the widow too much about Mustang and Hawkeye. Still, it was very hard for anyone not to empathize with the two. "How?" Gracia asked, apparently still baffled by the miraculous work on Mustang's lost eye.

"It's a long story. But, I will tell you when I see Elysia."


	3. Chapter 3

Nothing was worse than waiting in the rainy day, especially when mother was late for a few hours. The little girl sighed. She was getting used to being the last one leaving the school. In the midst of watching the rain and feeling the fallen raindrops sprinkled to her skin, a car drove into the school compound. A tall man dressed in blue, like the one her father once wore, stepped out of the vehicle with an umbrella holding in his hand.

"Uncle Jean!"

"Hey Elysia!"

"Why are you here? Where is mommy?"

"There is a guest coming to your house for a visit, so your mother has to prepare a meal."

"A guest? Who is it?"

"You know him too. He's in the car right now."

Another man came out from the vehicle and waved to the girl, whose eyes paused on the new yet familiar face.

Elysia did not recognize the face, but she knew it was him. "Uncle Roy!" Elysia sprinted to Mustang.

Elysia!" Havoc's call was unheeded. The heavy rain was totally oblivious to the exhilarated girl.

Mustang lifted the girl up with one arm. Both adult and child giggled.

"You came back!"

"Yes, I did."

"Where is your eye patch?" In Elysia's impression, Mustang's appearance was the most conspicuous due to his pirate trademark look. It was not scary to her at all for some reasons. In contrast, she found that Mustang's marred face was very handy, especially when she wanted to scare off some children she did not like. However, Mustang did not enjoy seeing the children running away from him.

"I threw it away. Sorry, Elysia. I know you liked it a lot."

"Don't be, Uncle Roy. You look very handsome without the eye patch, although… daddy is still a little more handsome than you are."

"Well, no one can beat your father in any way, but thank you, Elysia. You are as sweet as ever."

Havoc joined the duo. "Elysia, what about me? Your Uncle Jean walks you to school every morning and he doesn't get any compliment?"

"Don't be mad, Uncle Jean." With that being said, Elysia leaned forward and gave Havoc a peck on the cheek. "Here's your reward for bringing Uncle Roy to see me."

"Thank you, Elysia. That is much better!" Havoc smiled sheepishly and entered the car.

After the car had started up, Mustang said, "Let's bring you home, all right?"

Elysia raised her right hand up to the level of her forehead. Her brows were knitted. Her tone was an octave lower. Like a soldier, she replied, "Yes, General Mustang!"

* * *

><p>Elysia was very happy that day. Her drawing was praised by the teacher. When her mother brought her home, Elysia immediately showed the drawing to her mother. It had almost everyone in there; her family was hugging her and was laughing at Breda, who was drawn to be scared like a cat. Fuery was struggling with the leash in his hands as he tried to stop Hayate from getting too close to Breda. Under the tree, Havoc and Falman's cheeks were flushed red, a bottle in one hand for both. Mustang and Hawkeye seemed to be alone not far away from the rest, holding hands.<p>

Not long after Gracia and Elysia came home, the phone rang. Elysia recalled her mother's expression very well. Because, it was the same as the day before her father was buried. Her mother did not drop the phone this time however.

After a few short responses, Gracia hang up the phone. She told Elysia that their neighbor would come to the house and left in a hurry.

A week later, Mustang left Central for a long trip to the South. That was the last time Elysia saw him until recently. Before he departed, most of her father's colleagues were there to bid him farewell. There was no sign of Hawkeye, who had usually associated Mustang wherever he went. She wanted to ask the adults why. But as soon as she found the black and white portrait of Hawkeye bore on the hands of the pallid-looking Mustang, she stopped that thought. She knew, if she asked, her Uncle Roy would cry, like her mother did when her father was buried.

It was like a dream. Elysia could not believe the one sitting opposite to her around the dining table, laughing, was the same person she had last seen at the terminal. At last, her Uncle Roy was back.

"Elysia? Elysia?"

The girl suddenly realized Mustang was calling her.

"Why are you staring at me? Is there food stain on my face?"

"No, Uncle Roy. I'm just very happy that you've come back."

Mustang's face turned soft and said, "It's good to be back, Elysia."

Warmth and joy did not last long. Someone was pounding on the other side of the door so hard as if it was going to shatter anytime.

"I wonder who it is. Coming!" Gracia stood up and rushed to the door.

The rude visitors did not wait for a second, barging in as soon as the door was opened. "Gracia Hughes?" asked a military police.

"Yes. Is something wrong?"

The military police took out a handcuff and chained Gracia's wrists. Mustang, Havoc, and Elysia came out from the dining room after they heard the commotion.

"What is going on here?" Mustang asked the unusual visitors.

The military police were taken aback to find Mustang in Hughes's residence. "Commander-in-chief, sir! We apologized for the abruptness."

"You know well for making that mistake! Release her now before I put you through court-martial!" Mustang said angrily.

Mustang's threat seemed to show its effect. The military police gulped and paused to take a glimpse of each other. "We are afraid that we could not obey your order, sir. Gracia Hughes is wanted for concealing classified document. Here is the arrest warrant." The officer took out a piece of paper, which Havoc took it and skimmed through it. "Approved by General Grumman?"

"He's in no position to do this!" Mustang exclaimed.

"We are merely executing our order, sir. Please do not make this difficult for us."

"Mommy!" Terrified, Elysia ran to her mother but a military police stepped in, blocking her path.

"Don't you dare touch her!" Mustang lashed out on the military police, hands yanked Elysia to his side.

"Elysia! Stay with Uncle Roy and Uncle Jean. Be a good girl, okay?" Gracia told her daughter as she was brought away.

"No!" The girl cried. "Mommy!"

"I'll bring her back. I promise," Mustang asserted firmly.

"What's your plan, chief?" Havoc asked.

"I'm going to see him and make him release Gracia."

"It won't be easy. Grumman would not have taken her into custody if it only serves as a threat. He's using that marriage certificate as an excuse to retaliate against you."

"I know that, Havoc. I have what he wants."


	4. Chapter 4

Grumman was a long known ladies' man before Mustang succeeded the title. In fact, Mustang learned gallantry from Grumman to cover his ambitious aim. Using women to hide their trails was part of Grumman and Mustang's norm, but Mustang could not tolerate Grumman for manipulating his granddaughter only to tie up his enemy. Now, Grumman was attacking his enemy's weakness once more, this time, taking a widow as his pawn. That act exceeded far beyond Mustang's endurable threshold.

Alone by himself, Mustang stormed into Grumman's manor. Mustang's status had forbidden the guards from using a lethal weapon. Out of desperation, the guards tackled the general and pinned him to the floor.

"Out of my way!" Mustang shouted. A burst of flame immediately threw the guards to the air. Like dead flies, the guards dropped to the floor, moaning in pain. Mustang straightened up himself. The hall, where he was at, was surrounded by decorated wall with simple medieval art. From the second floor, more sentries and men in black marched out, flanking Mustang. However, there was still no sign of Grumman.

"Grumman! I know you are in there! Get out now, you coward!" Mustang bellowed.

"Well, is it not the famous Flame Alchemist, I should say, Amestris's commander-in-chief?" Grumman was seen walking down the stairs. "What honor do I have to bring a VIP like you to visit?"

"Release Gracia Hughes now!"

"Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Is that an order coming from the commander-in-chief? I apologize, Your Excellency. It cannot be done. The martial office has solid evidence to place that charge. You and I have no authority to interfere in that matter."

"Hawkeye's belongings!" said Mustang, whose words held Grumman from leaving. "I will send all her belongings along with the marriage certificate to you tomorrow morning. Here's the release form. I've signed it. Just release Gracia and those are all yours."

There came slow and soft claps. "I finally understand why Riza refused to let you go. You are indeed a dependable man. What a shame! That offer is a little late, don't you think?"

"What else do you want?"

"A smart guy like you needs no hint. Besides, we had played countless times of chess game. You know what I want."

"You couldn't possibly… You want to be the commander-in-chief?"

"Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! It is your choice, Mustang. Keep your seat and sacrifice Gracia Hughes, or give up your power and spare Hughes's widow? I'm anticipating for your wise decision."

"Did you make the same decision too? When you sacrifice Hawkeye for your escape? Is that it? All you want is to be the commander-in-chief?"

Grumman remained mum. His face twitched but quickly recovered his former calm complexion as he replied, "Riza made her choice. No one forced her."

"She chose you because she thought you were her grandfather. You lied to her… that you are fighting for greater good, better future. You'd used her!"

"No! You were the one who had been using her all along! When you discovered our relationship, you took advantage. You instigated her to spy on me. She did not choose me! She chose you! Even at the end, she still chose you! That's why she died defending you and your great plan!"

"No! No!" Mustang howled. "That is not true!"

"It doesn't matter anymore. Leave now. You have until tomorrow to surrender your post." Grumman said, walking away.

"One last question…"

Grumman stopped.

"Hawkeye's autopsy report…" Mustang tightened his fists as he spoke. His voice shuddered. "She was shot three times at the chest, point-blank. Her shooter… was it you?"

Point-blank, three shots… It happened very quickly and suddenly. Her breath stopped. Her eyes widened. The shooter let go of the victim. Without support, the victim instantaneously fell to her side, mouth quivered, gasping for air. The shooter stood there, watching the paralyzed woman with no one to help bleeding profusely, until she finally closed her eyes.

"No." The answer was short and without hesitation.

"If I find out that you are lying, I will risk everything to watch your life ends in a horrific death," Mustang said in low growl.

"Mustang…"

The commander, who stood at the opened door, hesitated.

"Was she… Was Riza in pain when she died?" Grumman's voice was trembling. For a moment, that tone triggered guilt.

_"Colonel! Colonel! Hang in there! The ambulance is coming!"_

There was not a day Mustang did not hear himself screaming it.

_"Who did this to you, Hawkeye?"_

She shook her head. Her eyes met his left eye. Those amber eyes were not quivering. Her firm peer pieced his soul, yet so gentle that expunged all his anger. She did not say anything. She did not have to, as long as it was him.

His eye opened wide. _"No!"_ An agonized voice echoed in the air.

Mustang strode off. That instant her hand slipped away from his, he could no longer feel his own heartbeat. There would be nothing to reverse that effect, not even Grumman and his act.

"Are you happy now?" Grumman asked as Mustang was far gone.

A pair of feet approached behind Grumman only for two steps.


	5. Chapter 5

With the problem unsolved, Mustang left Grumman's residence reluctantly and came to a busy street. The lights, the stalls, and the people reminded him of someone. He looked to his left and saw a blonde woman smiled at him. His eyes were wide open. "Hawkeye!" Mustang tried to embrace her, only to realize there was no one in his arms. She was so real. His body grew heavy and he felt like his head was about to split. Perhaps, he was too tired. The general wobbled back to his apartment. Shortly, he stumbled into a pedestrian, almost knocked her over.

"I'm so sorry!" Both of them apologized at the same time. Mustang did not raise his head and moved hastily. Soon, he stopped. That voice. It was so familiar. He could never forget that voice.

Mustang turned around and looked for the person he knew. He ran to here and there, but there was no sign of her. Disappointed, he went home and dropped onto the couch. His heavy sigh drew someone's response. The table lamp was lit.

"Welcome home, Uncle Roy," a woman said.

Mustang lifted up his head to see who she was. "Rae? Why are you in my apartment?"

"It's MY apartment, remember? You gave it to me before you left to the South." Rachel crossed her arms.

Mustang did not argue.

"Your left eye—"

"Can I… sleep here tonight?"

Rachael was surprise to hear that request. A commander-in-chief taking shelter at her apartment? "Didn't you have a mansion?" she asked.

Again, Mustang ignored her question.

Rachael closed her eyes. No wonder General Armstrong hated this man to the guts. "Suit yourself!" She said. "You can have the couch."

"Thanks Rae! I owe you one." Mustang said, lying across the couch, with his eyes close.

"Uncle Roy…"

"Hmm?"

"After you left, someone sent this here. Since you are here, it is returned to you." Rachael laid a small velvet case on the tea table. "I think… she would say yes."

Mustang then heard a door close. He reached out to the tea table, grabbed the velvet case in his hand, and opened it. There held two platinum rings, one larger than the other. The general took out the larger one and rubbed his thumb on the inner side of the ring. There engraved 'Riza Hawkeye' in italic. The ring was slipped on his left ring finger and fit perfectly. When he took the smaller ring out, it felt so much heavier. He read his name on the ring. A smile sneaked across his face. The ring was indeed worth all the silly attempts he made to get her finger size. If only he had the chance to see her try it…

At that thought, his vision warped and it was getting harder to breathe. He held the ring tightly using the same fist that covered his eyes.

Rachael, standing behind the door, turned her face away. It was the first time she saw him broken.

On the next morning, her uncle was already gone. On the tea table, she found keys and a deed with her name and the apartment's address on it. A note was left with two simple words—thank you.


	6. Chapter 6

"General!" A lieutenant opened the door. With his hand still holding on the door knob, he said, "There's a press conference!"

Grumman looked at his officer and said, "Prep the car!"

At the Central Headquarters, Mustang was at the dressing room watching his own reflection on the long mirror that fixed on the wall. The navy blue ceremonial dress was straight without a crease. His hair was combed back, completely exposing his forehead. Decorations and medals were pinned securely on his left chest. His right hand was holding the peaked cap. Other than the knitted brows, he was at his best condition.

"General!" A young officer called him. "It's time."

Mustang wore his cap.

"Sir, there must be another way…" The lieutenant said.

Mustang turned around. He did not say a word nor did he look at his subordinate. The only response he had was to press his hand firmly on the lieutenant's shoulder.

"General Mustang!" Havoc barged in. "You have to see this!" He said.

At the hall, the media and some high-ranking officers had been seated. An hour already passed but the podium was still empty. Everyone was running out of patience except Grumman, who seemed to have fallen asleep.

"There he is!"

The stage was filled with blinding flashes as the commander-in-chief took the podium. Silence immediately took the floor.

"Citizens of Amestris, ladies and gentlemen. This is the first time I address the public since I took office a year ago. Due to untoward episodes of national crisis, I had not had the chance to introduce myself to you, my people. Please accept my apology." Mustang bowed his head. "My name is Roy Mustang, the Amestris Army commander-in-chief. Immediately after I took office, the President was kidnapped, I was shot, and Amestris engaged another civil war. Once again after three years of peaceful years, Amestris was doomed by fear and terror. As the commander-in-chief, I had failed to uphold peace and security of this country. To the lost souls, victims, and their families, I apologize for the second time." Mustang bowed his head again. "My most trusted adjutant and my wife, Colonel Riza Hawkeye, also perished at war. She was convicted of espionage. I, too, was suspected of leaking military confidential to her. Although I was acquitted, I know that many still see me as a traitor, an unworthy leader. Even now, I still believe that Colonel Hawkeye had not betrayed us. But, my faith does not represent the people of Amestris. A good leader is a leader who leads his or her people to prosperity. A leader who had lost trust shall not reign. Thereby…"

Mustang's heart grew heavier. His eyes found a woman, who just stepped in, watching him. It was Gracia Hughes.

It did not take long for Grumman to realize who Mustang was watching. "How the…"

A captain then came to his side and whispered in his ear. "What?" Grumman almost cried out load. Now, he could only wait for Mustang to reclaim his throne.

"I…" said Mustang, "resign as the commander-in-chief, effective immediately. I'm now open for questions."

"General Mustang!" Many hands were up and high.

Grumman rose and left with disgruntle.

"Who will be your successor?"

"It is not known yet. The President, with the council's advice, will elect the best candidate."

"Is Lieutenant General Olivier Armstrong one of the candidates?"

"She is a highly capable military officer. It is possible."

"General, despite the evidence, you still believe that Colonel Hawkeye was innocent. Is it because she's your wife?"

Mustang took a breath. The journalist who asked that question, he could see it, the passion, the youth, and the enthusiasm. He had those eyes before. "Son," he said. "Have you been with a person, through life and death? As her comrade throughout five major wars, never, not even once, had I seen her forsook those who had fallen. Who else would you trust, if not her?"

The journalist was speechless.

Mustang proceeded, "I truly appreciate your time. Have a good evening." The hall was left in commotion as all the journalists shouted for the general. With the help of the human barricade formed by the military police, Mustang retreated hastily.

"General Mustang!" A man in business suit called as he ran to the retired general.

"Just Mustang!" Mustang corrected, not bother to look behind. "And, this is a restricted area."

The man paused, but immediately rushed forward. "I'm not a journalist! The name is Eugene Crawford, The President's assistant. Gen—"

Mustang turned around abruptly, almost stumbled by Crawford.

"Mr. Mustang…" Crawford gulped as he looked at the watchful eyes, but decided to continue. "What you did, your resignation, was utterly absurd and unnecessary."

"Mr. Crawford, I'm just an ordinary man. Save your advice for The President." Mustang strode out, focusing his sight on the exit sign.

"Mr. Mustang!" Crawford called out.

"I'm done!" Mustang snapped.

Crawford finally stopped. Watching Mustang reaching the door, he just heaved a sigh, but this was not the end. "The President wants to see you in person!"

As expected, Mustang ignored what was told and opened the door. He was out, except that he was greeted by more men. Black suit, sunglasses—It was all too familiar.

"This way please," said one of them.

"What if I don't want to?" Mustang asked, a hand slipped into his pocket.

"Kill us if you want, sir, but you will still have to come with us."

The glove had long fitted into his hand but hidden from sight. Mustang kept his hand in the pocket and his emotion checked. He scrutinized his opponents. None of them were heavily armed. Even if they were, they were no match to his fire. Nonetheless, Mustang conformed as there was still unfinished business between them.

They arrived at an estate. The car stopped at the gazebo, where it was guarded by the men in black. Mustang was led to meet the President, who was leisurely enjoying the scenery. "Mustang!" The President smiled.

Mustang, however, was not in a good mood. He calmly walked up to the President. Once he was close enough, he threw his fist right at the President's face. His action immediately elicited response from the secret service, subduing him to the ground by force. "Are you all right, Sir?" One of them held the President.

"I'm fine! I'm fine!" He said, his finger touched the corner of his mouth and found that it was stained in red. "I feel your pain, Mustang. But anger won't bring your wife back."

"No! I was hoping it would help me get rid of you!" Mustang used all his might to break loose from his captors. His struggle fueling with anger almost shook three men's weight off his back, startled everyone at scene. The situation escalated when all nearby agents rushed to suppress the aggressor, whose groan turned to devastated cry.

"Enough!" The President said. "Let him go!"

"President!"

"I said let him go!" The President shouted. "I'd be long dead if he wanted to kill me."

Mustang was finally released.

"Now leave us alone."

The secret agents stood still.

"Just do as I've said. I'll be fine."

Mustang slowly rose up as the secret agents retreated. Just before the ex-general left the gazebo, he made sure the President received his resentment through a threatening glare.

"I didn't mean for it to be like this," said the President. But none of his words reached the leaving ex-general.

"It's about your wife!"

Mustang stopped.

"I may have the answers for your questions." The President added.


	7. Chapter 7

_"Hey! Wake up!" _

_It was not until a blow to his cheek that woke him up completely. His sight slowly regained focus. Lightheaded, he shook his head. He began to feel the soreness throughout his body and he could not felt both his arms. Looking up, he found both his arms tied with metal chain. His feet were not touching the ground. He looked down to where the other people were. They were having conversations between themselves and jeered at him at the same time. He scanned each of the faces but he could not recognize any except the female, who was watching him coldly. At once, his eyes went wide. "Where's my son?" He asked. "I asked where's my son!"_

_"Silence!" There came another blow to his gut, which made him coughed frantically. "You'll speak when you are said to!"_

_"Please don't harm my son!" He cried out. "Riza Hawkeye! Why are you doing this?"_

_The woman drew up close and asked, "Is it you who planned the assassination? Was it you who ordered my grandfather's execution?"_

_"What are you talking about?"_

_After his question, his captor wheeled out another victim and took the sackcloth off the head._

_The President was terrified to see the familiar face. "Son!" He shouted._

_"Cut off his fingers. One by one," said Hawkeye, her hand flicked a pocket knife. It was handed over to her accomplice. The President's son screamed with his gagged mouth._

_"Please! It's not me! I didn't do it!"_

_"Just to let you know. I have not sharpened the knife for years. So, it is going to hurt even more," said Hawkeye._

_The blade was then forced on its victim's digit. It drew blood and screaming but did not sever the finger._

_"No! Please! I confess! I did forge the document! I ordered the execution!"_

_"What about General Mustang?" Hawkeye grabbed the President's shirt. "You hired a sniper to kill him, didn't you?"_

_"No! I didn't! It wasn't me!"_

_"You're lying!"_

_"I'm not! General Mustang was a man of honor and I respect him for that. It is true that I did use him to secure my political career but that's just it. I'm telling you the truth!"_

_"Don't listen to him, Hummer! He's telling you more lie. He could kill General Grumman for his purpose and so he would kill anyone who is in his way," The accomplice said._

_"I didn't execute Grumman for a selfish reason! Grumman orchestrated a massive invasion. We'd just barely recovered from the last civil war. Our defense is just not mature enough to stand another attack. How many? You're a soldier! You tell me! How many people will die if another war breaks? Yes, I ordered the execution! One guilty man's blood on my hands I can bear, but could you bear the innocent blood of thousands?"_

_"No, Hummer! General Grumman was forced to lead the invasion. If this dictator did not kill all the innocent scientists, His Excellency would not have sought for this last resort."_

_"Innocent? They were performing human transmutation, monstrous human experiment! They were murderers!"_

_"Stop!" Hawkeye shouted. "I've heard enough!" She drew out a pistol and pointed it to the President's forehead. "Liar!"_

"…I closed my eyes and several shots fired," said the President. "I'm still here! My son too! She killed them, every single one."

"I knew it!" said Mustang. "She didn't betray us!" Mustang grabbed the President's coat and shouted, "Why didn't you tell the truth? Why did you frame her? Why Grumman is still alive?"

"I did! No one believed me! The place where I was held was burnt down. No body was recovered. No witness. Grumman was found trapped in the basement, barely alive. You're the smart one. Go figure!"

Mustang looked the President, speechless. He slowly loosened his grip.

"Are you all right?" The President asked as Mustang looked away, gasping for air. "Grumman is dangerous, general. All these years I'd been trying to warn you! Now that you stepped down, the State is completely under his control. The history with Fuhrer Bradley is going to repeat itself."

Mustang leaned on the pillar, as if he was going to fell.

"You fought against tyranny, against injustice! I am fighting for the same cause. The parliament is still at its infancy and weak without the military support it. You are the support and the country's protector. Are you going to watch another Bradley ruining our country?"

"It's none of my business!" Mustang shouted. "I've lost enough. My friend… the one I loved… I'm done cleaning this country's mess!"

The President could only watch as the ex-general withdrew hastily. "You can't hide from what you're destined to do!" The President exclaimed. "It's in your blood!"

Despite Mustang refusal, The President was happy with his observation. A man with such wrath would not hide behind the curtain for long. All it needed was extra fuel to the fire.


	8. Chapter 8

Havoc had been driving for nearly an hour from street to street. Before this, he went to the market, the State's park, Hughes' grave. The major stuck his head out of the window. He looked left and right. He still could not find what he was looking for. Havoc took out a cigarette and lit it. "Where would he be?" Havoc asked nervously, as if it would be answered. Soon, a coffee shop caught his attention. Havoc stepped hard on the brake and got off the car.

"Mr. Havoc, thank goodness you are here!" The red-haired waitress said.

"The general…" Havoc huffed out. "Is he—"

"Inside. Second table from the left." The woman said before inclining forward and whispered to his ear.

"Thanks!" said the major. He quickly dashed to the black-haired man, who was alone. "Four cups of coffee? Really?" He asked, bewildered.

"I have been here for two hours waiting for you."

"General—"

"Mustang. It's just Mustang now."

The major looked at his ex-superior for a minute, pulled a chair, and sat down. Mustang seemed a bit sullen, but the man had been worse. His serene composure implied that the uniform that he surrendered earlier had not affected him much. Knowing the man years, Havoc understood that his ex-superior needed a clean break from his past, but his sense of loyalty and responsibility forbid him to do so. Grumman's threat served the right opportunity for him to step down. "Next time, could you leave a message or something before you go anywhere? I thought something happened to you when you did not meet me at the front gate."

"Sorry Havoc. A girl came to me and wanted to talk. How could I reject a beautiful woman's request?" Mustang said as he stirred his coffee. "We're meeting now, aren't we?"

"If it wasn't you and Hawkeye had a few covert missions here, I wouldn't…" The major trailed off, as he realized the name he just recalled. Havoc cautiously moved his eyes to the man sitting opposite to him.

Mustang was taking another sip of hot coffee. As he lowered the cup, he said, "Yeah… We did have a few 'dates' here." He missed her, badly. Anywhere he went, her traces were there, as if she never left.

"Stay here. I need to make a call. Everyone is worried as hell," said Havoc. The major then walked to the counter and borrowed a phone. When he returned, he looked at his ex-superior. "Sir," said Havoc.

"What's that face for? They didn't gather a search party, right?"

"They found him... They found Hayate."

* * *

><p>"We received a call complaining about strayed dogs."A man in jumpsuit and a baseball cap, shouted in the midst of incoherent barks. "There were seven of them. To be exact, six attacking one. He was wounded badly when we found him." The man stopped in front of a cage and turned to Mustang.<p>

Mustang's attention was absorbed into the presence of the wounded dog, which was fast asleep. The head and chest were covered with bandage.

"He really fought for his life," the worker continued. "Our vet had treated him. He's recovering fine, but his right eye would never see again."

It barely passed a year when he last saw the playful dog. But the scars on the canine's face and bandages made it even more difficult for recognition. "Where did you find him?" Mustang asked, eyes still on the sleeping creature.

"Bradley Street."

The name rang a bell. The rain, the red stream, and someone he missed flashed before Mustang's eyes. "How did I miss it?" He murmured.

"I'm sorry?"

"Could you open the cage?"

"No can do, sir. He is traumatized and very aggressive. My partner got thirty-six stitches on his hand for not being careful enough—"

"Just open it. I'll take full responsibility if anything happens to me."

The worker was puzzled for awhile. He then took out keys from his pocket.

Mustang slowly entered the cage after the door was open. "Careful!" He heard, as the dog raised his head and growled. Step by step, Mustang drew himself closer. "Hayate," Mustang spoke softly. "It's me."

The dog stood up and barked viciously.

"Sir, I think that is close enough," said the worker. His advice, however, fell on deaf ears.

"You miss her, aren't you? You were there guarding her." Mustang knelt down. "I'm sorry, Hayate. I was too late. I couldn't save her." Mustang reached out his hand but greeted with jaws locking hard around his wrist.

The worker immediately stepped in with a tranquilizer.

"Don't come any closer!" Mustang shouted. He turned back to the dog and met him in the eyes. "I'm sorry," Mustang sobbed, his free hand caressed the dog. "Sorry… Sorry…" He apologized repeatedly.

Hayate finally released his grip, ears drooped, licked his jaws as he stepped back, like a human suddenly regained sanity. Mustang, at once, pulled the whimpering dog close to his chest.

Watching both man and dog mourned for their loss, the worker unwittingly lowered the tranquilizer. "Sorry to interrupt. There is… some paperwork which you need to fill," he said.

Mustang turned to the man standing behind.

"I assume you would like to take him back with you."

"Yes, thank you." Mustang smiled. "Truly appreciated."


	9. Chapter 9

"All right, consider yourself…" said Mustang as he opened the door and found the dog trotted in immediately before took a left turn to the bedroom. "…At home," He murmured. Mustang mentally slapped himself. Who was he talking to? It was Hawkeye's apartment for crying out loud. At least it was before she moved to a terrace when he left to the North. He briefly surveyed the small living room. It was pretty much empty except a few boxes and one or two pieces of furniture covered by white clothes. Come to think of it, that was his first time being there. He wondered why he never had the chance to pay a visit. Mustang sighed at that thought. If it was not Hawkeye left a few things there, he would not have thought of keeping it. Mustang looked on the keys on his bandaged hand, gripped firmly, and walked to the bedroom to check on the dog. He stopped at the doorway as soon as he found the black canine lying listlessly beside the bed.

"Hey boy," Mustang spoke softly as he approached the dog, who was lying perpendicularly to the bed. Mustang glanced at the bed, tried hard not to squirm as he recalled someone dear to him. Seeing how Hayate behaved, he realized how it felt to be those cared for him. With his knees bent, Mustang asked, "What should I feed you? Ham as usual? You still like ham?"

Hayate only gave a soft howl.

"She probably won't like it, huh?" Mustang pressed his lips together for a few seconds.

Hawkeye was always rigorous on her pet's diet. Almost everyone perceived the untold message that she did not anyone to feed Hayate except for Fuery. Mustang was the only one who dared to challenge her, secretly. Before the confrontation with Bradley, he used to lure Hayate to submission using a slice of ham. It never worked, of course. The fact was Mustang always lost his ground whenever Hayate pulled the 'puppy eyes' trick. There was a close call when Hayate's blood test was highlighted in red for the sodium level. Mustang was never been caught as the long prepared scapegoat came into play. Poor Fuery! Mustang never meant to target him. No, he did not. But, when he started to pull the rank on Havoc or Breda, the dominoes came down to Falman, and at the end to Fuery - the lowest ranking in Mustang's team.

"Maybe I should get you dog food." He soon found the dog already standing by the door with a wagging tail.

Hayate barked twice at his bewildered owner.

"Ok, ok. Dog food that is!" Mustang finally opened the door and went out. Hayate followed but stopped just outside the apartment. The barks escalated to a frantic rhythm.

"What's the matter? Aren't you hungry?"

"General!"

Mustang looked up to see two people in blue uniform approaching. Hayate's bark was ever vigorous.

"What business do you have?" Mustang asked the soldiers.

One of them held out a small box. On top of the box was a folded green flag in triangular shape.

Mustang almost gasped. He never thought he would see this day coming.

"Your appeal had been approved, general. We had order to send you honor medal, flag, and uniform for Colonel Riza Hawkeye." The soldier said, and delivered the bundle to the overwhelmed man.

Mustang held the small box with one hand, the other hand stroked slowly against the green fabric.

"However, the appeal for commemoration is denied. The court ruled that her conviction of treason is final and should be remembered as so."

"It is fine," Mustang said. He could not know any better. The parliament needed to show that it still had control. The citizens wanted someone to responsible for their loss. First, it was her conviction, then came with his resignation. Those were merely appetizers to feed the public anger. Their past involvement in genocide had always been a controversy. It was only the matter of time that the issue being revisited.

"Sir, there is also a message for you, from the rest of the State's military."

"A message?"

"Yes, the message is, as I quote," The soldier cleared his throat, then shouted, "Riza Hawkeye being a traitor is a load of crap!" The soldier felt awkward when he found the ex-general eyes staring at him. "End of message," he said timidly.

Mustang burst in laughter.

"Sir?"

"It was Major Breda, wasn't it?" Mustang asked. "It must be. That's what he would say."

"It represents our thought." The soldier said. "We knew her, personally. Like you've said, despite all evidences are against her, we still believe she didn't sell her country."

"Thank you, soldier. It meant a lot."

Both soldiers nodded their heads. "That'll be all. Good day, general!" They saluted.

"Just one thing," said Mustang. "Call me general again… I'll let you taste hell."

The soldiers gulped, as if they saw a scorching red devil. "Understood!"

Seeing the soldiers retreated, Mustang turned to his left. "Shall we go get some dog food, boy?" He asked and received a vibrant bark.

It was already late at night when they were returning with some groceries. A gust of chilling breeze brought Mustang head low and behind the paper bags. It became quiet. Mustang slowly raised his head and noticed there was barely any presence of people. He could not imagine how a woman should walk home alone, at night. Mustang took a turn to the right and found a phone booth at the corner. It reminded him of Barry the Chopper. Mustang shook his head thinking that must be Barry's 'luckiest' day. What if that day she did not walk into Barry? What if she did not walk into a serial killer but a much dangerous man, like two suspicious men who dragged out a large heavy black bag from a van?

"What?" Mustang rubbed his eyes when his thought was manifested before his eyes. It was Hayate's bark that brought Mustang back to his sense. "Hey!" Mustang called out. The suspects immediately disposed the bag and ran back to the van. Dropping the groceries in his hands, Mustang ran as fast as he could but the van already took off. Hayate barked again. Mustang looked at the disposed bag. A list of possible contents sprang up in his head. Judging by the shape and the color, he narrowed down to one. Mustang hesitated. Years in the military and a tour in Ishval had prepared him for anything, but he would never be prepared to stumble into death. Mustang drew a deep breath. Kneeling on the ground, he slowly unzipped the bag. His heart almost stopped. The pressure on his chest was immense. Mustang finally lost balance and sat heavily on the ground. His eyes could not stop staring at that face thinking that he must have gone insane. However, that was the only explanation.

"Hawkeye…"


	10. Chapter 10

That was it. He had been waited for the one of a lifetime opportunity to be the top dog. Mustang stepped out of the tavern with a series of strategies already lay out in his head. All he had to do was to storm Bradley's residence and checkmate the king. It also meant for a one-man mission, one with uncertainty underlay.

"How was it?"

Mustang heard the blond with brown flat cap said. He immediately withdrew and leaned his back against the wall. One more step under the light would risk being exposed. Mustang looked to his left. It seemed like it was inevitable.

Hawkeye flipped the newspaper. As she received no response, she called, "General—"

"No, Hawkeye. I'm not going to talk about this. It's just going to be Bradley and me, no one else."

"Sir!"

"Don't sir me! I understand. You are worried, all right! But I can do this myself! I'm not as useless as you thought!"

"Could you please…"

"I can't let you handle any one of these beasts, okay? How can I fight when I need to worry about you?"

"Roy!"

"Oh, now you're calling me Roy! You never…" Mustang trailed off. Hawkeye never called him by his first name. "What did you just call me?"

Hawkeye sighed, "If it calms you down… Would you hear me now?"

"Uh… right. Go ahead." Mustang said awkwardly.

"I'm going with you…"

"But—"

"You can handle Bradley while I take down the guards. I assume that you prefer a surprise attack. Am I wrong?"

Mustang did not have to look at her to know that she had that triumphant smile. A small twitching drew his attention.

As the patient slowly recovered her senses, she found a pair of concerned eyes watching her. "General?" The soft voice called out.

"How are you feeling?" Mustang immediately leaned forward. His left hand caught hers, his right behind her back. The patient took the support to rise into sitting position.

The woman pressed her hand against her forehead and closed her eyes. "What happened to me?"

_"Amnesia?"_

_"The remnant of her memory seems to be fragmented as well. Whether it is temporary or permanent, we don't know."_

Mustang thought solemnly. The series of mishap fallen on her was extraordinary and yet mysterious. He did not know how to answer it.

"You were shot in the head!" She suddenly exclaimed. "There was so much blood!" She said watching her trembling hands. "I couldn't stop it!"

Mustang felt his arms being gripped hard. He had never seen her so frightened. Looking at the pallid face, he said, "It was long time ago. I'm fine now! Look!" Mustang took her hand and put it to the back of his head.

Hawkeye felt the smooth hair on her hand and it calmed her down as it was dry. "Thank goodness!" She said, beads of tear rolling in her eyes.

Mustang wiped the tears off with his thumb. Worried of her condition, he continued to stay by her side. It did not take long for the woman in his arms to fall asleep. Mustang also succumbed to fatigue and drifted to sleep.

In the evening, an armed squad entered the veteran hospital.

"Visiting time has passed," a nurse said.

"We're not here visiting," said the major. "Is Riza Hawkeye admitted here?"

"Yes, may I know what's going on?"

The major and her team did not wait for the nurse to finish her question. They barged into the ward and caused great commotion.

"Wait! You can't go in there!" The nurse shouted, but it failed to stop the soldiers. The latter marched along the hallway and left none of the doors unopened.

"What is this about?"

The major turned to see Mustang standing near one of the wards, his hand slowly pulled the door to shut. "Rae? Why are you here?" Mustang asked.

"Roy…"

"Wait, you are calling my name." Mustang said. "That couldn't be good."

The major looked at him in the eye. "No, it's not."

Mustang stared back, as if he could see the telltale from her eyes. "I see," he sighed. "You found out her DNA report."

"Sorry," The major's eyes shunted away. "I have been ordered to take her in," She said. The truth was that the military had never been more alarmed when they discovered Hawkeye was still alive. As distrust grew, the military was in great stress to improve its public relations with the parliament and also Amestris' citizens. The insurgence and rumor that the military was involved had flushed that little confidence away. In the eyes of the military, Hawkeye was a threat and disgrace.

"Rae, I just…"

The major noticed Mustang was clenching his fists.

"We need more time," he said, turning to where the fast asleep patient was.

The major looked up. Watching Mustang made her heart ache. She knew he was exhausted, but those dull eyes told her that he was dying inside. The thought of having to rob this very man's hope again elicited unbearable guilt and shame. "I'll make sure her safety," The major said firmly. She felt her shoulder being gripped.

"Thank you," said Mustang. "Don't let anything happen to her." Mustang received a nod as reply and stepped aside. He stood still, wanted to stop Hawkeye being taken away again, yet his rationale told him otherwise. After a year of coping, he thought he could finally heal. But when Hawkeye was being detained, that old wound bled again. As he was overwhelmed by the surging pain, he heard her charge being read—treason.


End file.
